


Verses from the Past

by clgfanfic



Category: Simon and Simon (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-03
Updated: 2012-11-03
Packaged: 2017-11-17 15:29:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/553090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clgfanfic/pseuds/clgfanfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Observations from a dog's point of view</p>
            </blockquote>





	Verses from the Past

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Remote Control #1 and then in Black Ops #4 under the pen name Lynn Gill.

Marlow's head rotated slowly left, then right as he watched his master, sitting on the couch, a yellowed letter held tightly in his hands.  Although the animal had no understanding of the mosaic of emotions that played across Rick Simon's face, he could feel the confusion generated in the man by the object held in his hands.  The confusion was different from the aura that had bothered the dog all morning.  Dressed in a dark suit and tie, Rick only slightly resembled the man who snuck the mutt table-scraps when his brother wasn't watching and occasionally poured beer into his dinner bowl.

          The quiet pad of A.J.'s deck shoes drew a steady tail thumping from the large dog, but Rick failed to notice until the younger blond man entered through the back door.

          "Rick?" the other half of Simon and Simon Investigations questioned.  "What are you doing here?  I thought you were going to the funeral with Terry and Bob."

          The elder Simon brother quickly buried the old letter in his pocket and shrugged slightly, hoping his brother had missed the action.

          "Yeah, I was," he said, "but I wanted to stop by here and pick up something first. Sammy and I wrote up a bogus report once, and I wanted to take it for the wake.  It's just the sort of thing he'd like to remember… silly as hell… you know."

          A.J. nodded, his brow wrinkling.  Slipping the jacket off his shoulders he laid it over the back of a chair and walked in to join his brother in the living room.  There was something else bothering Rick.

          "Did it bother you to see it after all these years?  Not as funny as you remember?"

          A smile.  "Naw, it's still silly.  But, when I was digging through the stuff, I found something I'd forgotten about.  Well, I better get a move-on."  Rick levered off the couch, Marlow standing as he did.

          "Wait a minute, aren't you going to tell me what it was?"

          "What?"

          "What you found that's obviously got you upset."

          Rick shifted from one foot to the other.  Marlow sat back down; it was going to be a while before he had his ride.

          Reaching into his pocket, Rick removed the rumpled envelope.  He held it up with a sheepish look.  A.J. took a step closer, reading the front.

          "Hey, that's mine," he said, reaching out for it.

          "Not exactly," Rick told him, moving the paper out of reach.  "It's a letter I wrote to you while I was in 'Nam, but I never mailed it, so – technically – it's still mine."

          "Detail.  Why didn't you mail it?"

          Rick cleared his throat to buy a few moments to think.  _Should I just blow this all off and leave?  No, A.J. would just pester me until I explained_.

          "Oh, I don't know.  I guess I just thought you wouldn't understand," Rick said.

          A.J. cocked his head.  "Wouldn't understand?"

          Marlow eased his front feet down with a grunt, his shaggy head turning to watch the speaking men.

          "Oh, here," Rick said, handing his younger brother the envelope.  "I'll never be able to explain it.  It's sort of silly in its own way, I guess.  I was just feeling a little homesick when I saw this in the base paper, and, well, you read it."

          A.J. carefully opened the envelope, removing the single piece of brittle, yellow lined paper and an old newspaper clipping.  Unfolding the letter he read aloud.  "Dear A.J., when I read this, I couldn't help but think of you.  I don't know if this will make any sense to you, but it says better how I feel than I ever could, so I'm mailing it to you.  I hope you and mom are okay.  Ask her to send me some socks if she gets time.  Take care of yourself, kid.  Rick."

          Marlow thumped his tail as Rick sank back down onto the couch and reached out to give the big red dog a nervous pat on the head.  A.J. set the letter and envelope aside, and held the clipping, reading it silently.  When he finished, he cleared his throat and read it again, out loud.  "Eight, June, 1971.  _What Mysteries We Have Willed To Our Children…_

 

          You're too young to understand.

          Your eyes haven't seen

          All that mine have;

          And you've shed only tears

          Of childhood woes,

          You're too young to understand.

 

          How man can give pain

          So much easier than love.

          How he's made a science

          Of hurting,

          And destroying.

          You're too young to understand.

 

          Why medals are given

          For the best job of killing

          Or

          The most wasted way of dying.

          You're too young to understand.

 

          Why your father died;

          And that I weep for you,

          Not him.

          Because you'll grow older

          And you will understand…

          As much as I do.

          Which is not at all.

 

Clayton H. Snedeker, 1974th Comm Group, Udorn RTAFB, Thailand."[1]

          A.J. laid the clipping with Rick's letter and walked over to sit down next to his brother.  "I know why you didn't send it."

          Rick looked away.  "Oh?  Why?"

          "I wasn't ready to read it then.  I wouldn't have understood what you were trying to say, but I do now.  Thank you, Rick."

          The older man chuckled nervously.  "Yeah, well, I guess it just caught me by surprise to find it after all this time, you know?  I mean, finding it on the way to Sammy's funeral.  He was so young, A.J., eighteen and so damned green when I met him.  Blond, blue eyes, it was almost like having you there.  I never thought he'd make it through his tour.  Then, to have him die now from cancer…  Robyn said it was probably from his exposure to Agent Orange.  I guess it just all gets confusing sometimes."

          A.J. reached out and wrapped an arm around his brother's shoulder.  Rick looked back at the clear blue eyes that regarded him with open affection and understanding.

          "You're all right, kid," Rick said softly.

          A.J. smiled and Marlow laid his nose on his paws.  All was right in the world again and brothers made great masters (even if rides had to wait for them occasionally).

  


* * *

[1]  The poem, "What Mysteries We Have Willed Our Children," was written by Clayton H. Snedeker, 1974th Comm Group while he was stationed in Udorn RTAFB, Thailand.  However, it was printed 8 June 1973, not 1971.  The poem was inspired by a photo taken by Technical Sergeant George Alvarado, also at Udorn.  The photo accompanied the poem in the _Air Force Times_ and showed an old woman holding a young boy, both crying.  Her son (the boy's father) was a security guard at the base, killed during a sniper attack at Udorn in October 1972.  The child had been decorated with his father's posthumous Bronze Star Award.  A copy of the poem was translated into Thai and presented to the woman and her grandson.


End file.
